


lost disaster on the ground

by hecaa_the_jedi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Panic Attacks, Past Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi - Freeform, True Mandalorians (Star Wars), excessive use of em dashes is excessive and no I won't apologize
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:29:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29861592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hecaa_the_jedi/pseuds/hecaa_the_jedi
Summary: Obi-wan Kenobi wakes up decades in the past, two infants in his arms, and it changes the course of this universe. Obi-wan doesn't know why the Force sent him to Galidraan, but he knows he cannot waste the chance to save the True Mandalorians. There's so much he needs to change, but he's on Galidraan now so this is where he'll start.But what happens after a people are saved, after Luke and Leia are safe, and Obi-wan Kenobi is left to shudder underneath the weight of this new world?
Relationships: Jango Fett & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 175





	1. falling backwards

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MageOfCole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MageOfCole/gifts).
  * Inspired by [we can turn it into gold dust](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29150946) by [MageOfCole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MageOfCole/pseuds/MageOfCole). 



> Hi! I'm very new to the Star Wars fandom and really happy to be here. I read 'we can turn it into gold dust' by MageOfCole (linked below) and couldn't get this AU out of my head. They gave me permission to share it here and I hope you all enjoy! 
> 
> If you like my writing you can find me at hecca-the-jedi on Tumblr where (eventually) I'll post more of my own stuff. Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Title from Gold Dust by BANNERS.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan's point of view and long-time coming breakdown.

Obi-wan is exhausted. There’s no other word for the bone-deep weariness he is feeling. He’s searched for another word, something to match the horror he’s feeling, but there isn’t one. He’s simply and purely _exhausted_. 

Luke and Leia are asleep. Obi-wan knows this. He can feel it in the Force and stars, even thinking about the Force is exhausting. It’s _Light_ and brimming with life and there's Darkness but it’s _nothing_ like the Dark that grew and grew as the war raged on until it was normal and— and it _hurts_. It hurts because everyone he knew — the people he relied on, the people he loved — do not exist in this galaxy. They’re there, in the Force, but they’re different and they’re _Lighter_ and Obi-wan grieves for every life he felt shutter out of existence but now they’re back and— and Obi-wan needs to save them. Somehow. He needs to… he needs to… Mace and Shmi and Qui-gon and, oh, Ashoka hasn’t even been born yet, and _Anakin_ _and and_ —

—and he’s exhausted. His entire world just ended, shattered around him, and now it’s back. Dooku is alive; not just alive but he isn’t Dark. He isn’t Fallen. He’s gray and shrouded but his roots were firmly in the side of the Light and Obi-wan remembers every moment of pain, of agony the man caused him and the Galaxy at large and it simply felt like it had never been there at all. 

Because it hadn’t been. Wouldn’t be. 

(But it had, hadn't it? It had been real. His life. His failure. It had been all too real.)

The man that had looked down at Obi-wan didn’t have yellow eyes. He didn’t want to hurt Obi-wan and if the Jedi-who-no-longer-was hadn’t had negotiations to focus on, Jango’s people to save, that alone might have shattered him. 

Dooku had offered, feeling Obi-wan in the Force, to take him back to the Temple. 

“There’s something… strangely familiar about you,” the man had said. Obi-wan didn’t know if it was the rush of _fearhurtprotectiongrief_ that exploded into the Force or the half-a-dozen armored Mandalorians that stepped protectively in front of him that convinced Dooku to let it go. 

Obi-wan’s not… entirely sure how much time has passed since he appeared in this past. Since he’s been with the _Haat Mando’ade_ . He’s not even sure how long it’s been since they came back to camp, everyone whole and _alive_. All he knows is Luke and Leia have been fed and they’re asleep, being watched over by one of the clan mothers to give Obi-wan time to… to do something, he’s sure. He just doesn’t know what. Sleep, probably. 

Sleep. What a funny concept. 

Obi-wan looks at the blankets and thinks about sleeping. He really does. But the more he thinks about closing his eyes the more panicked he becomes and suddenly he needs to check on Luke and Leia because he can feel them, but what if it’s a lie, an illusion,a trick of the Sith, what if they’re _gone_ , but when he gets up to move he can’t. He _can’t move_ , he’s alone, and his lungs have begun struggling like Anakin is holding him up by the throat with nothing but the Force and _crushing— oh Force, Padme, I’m sorry_ —

 _Breathe,_ Obi-wan chastises himself, but the word does not bring the agonizing action into being. When he tries to suck in a breath, Obi-wan finds himself choking on a sob. He is… he is _crying_ and he cannot be _crying_ he doesn’t have time for _crying—_

He needs to get up. He needs to move. His people _need_ him. He can’t remember the stardate and he doesn’t know how long he’s been here but he knows, he can feel, every single life he felt flicker out and more and he can save them, but to save them he needs to _breathe—_

—but he can’t breathe and his vision is graying out on the sides and _no_ because if Obi-wan closes his eyes he might open them to find this was all a cruel dream, a Force forsaken life, he might find Luke and Leia _gone_ , he might be back in the temple surrounded by children that his brother _murdered_ and he needs to get up— he’s been given a chance, to save those children, to save the Order, to save his family— someone anyone he _need to—_

—he needs to do so many things and he can’t do any of them because he can’t _breathe_. 

Tears are pouring down his face and Obi-wan can’t remember the last time he cried. It’s been so, _so_ long he doesn’t remember _how to stop_. He tries, he tries so damn hard, but each breath catches in the back of his throat and brings on a new wave of crying.

His tears are not quiet, half the camp can probably hear him, and he’ll be cognizant enough to be ashamed about that later but for now he doesn’t have enough control to be ashamed. His control is lost in a swirling sea of emotions that he has no power over. He cannot control his thoughts, nor his breathing, or the volume of the cries that are tearing involuntarily out of his chest and he _cannot stop_ —

—when suddenly there’s a hand on his shoulder and Obi-wan responds without thinking because so many people that he loved have _tried to kill him_ and he’s _not safe_ so he grips the arm that reached down and _pulls_. He sees so many faces in front of him that he doesn’t know who he’s fighting, he just knows he can’t stop as he pins a body underneath him and his breath heaves at the exertion. 

He barely has the strength to hold himself up, let alone keep someone larger than him pinned like this but whoever grabbed him isn’t fighting. Obi-wan’s not being attacked, but he doesn’t know how to let up. He blinks, furiously, trying to clear tears from his eyes enough to even _see_ his enemy but he can’t. He’s still crying and Obi-wan doesn’t know how he survived— he doesn’t know _why_ — when he’s _this kriffing_ _useless_. 

“ _Udusii_ ,” a voice says, strong and familiar, “it’s okay, _verd_ . You’re safe. Your _ade_ are safe.” The comforting flow of Mando’a surrounds Obi-wan and he knows it’s not Cody — Cody _tried to kill_ him, shot him down _and hunted him_ — but it’s Cody’s voice and Cody’s face but there’s no scar and the air is so cold and when he reaches out it’s not the Force signature of any of the 212th that he finds but a stranger and what does it say that the company of a strange is less threatening than a friend?

“You’re safe,” the voice says steadily and Obi-wan can feel his arms begin to shake as his body is racked with another wave of tears.

He is not safe. Obi-wan Kenobi will _never_ be safe. But he is so exhausted that he can’t manage the energy to care, to fight. There isn’t enough of him left to fight for. With one last breath Obi-wan reaches out into the Force and searches. He can feel Luke and Leia, shining so bright and innocent and nothing like their father, and he feels… he feels, inexplicably, safe.

The Force envelops him with the feeling, singing _truth_ in the promises this man so freely gives.

And Obi-wan, always, has trusted the Force. Finally, he allows his shaking limbs to collapse. Strong arms wrap around him and for the first time in who knows how long he lets _go_. 

He lets go of his thoughts, of his pain, of his regrets and fears. He lets go of Anakin and the Order. He lets go of the Sith. Of Darkness and Light and everything in between. He lets go of his responsibility, his sense of duty, his want, his shame, his despair, and even his _fear_ . He simply... _lets_ ... _go_. 

He cries. He cries for so long and he doesn’t even try to stop himself. It could be days. It could be years. His tears fall and they’re loud and ugly and scared and Obi-wan is both thirty-eight and an orphan of an entire culture and he is twenty and he is a father. He is surrounded by so much _Light_ it scares him. He allows himself to _feel_ everything and it’s so painfully raw and broken and _real_ that it reminds Obi-wan of his Master’s precious _here_ and _now_.

And for the first time, possibly since he’s been alive, he lets himself feel without consequence, remorse, or sense of failure. ~~He has already failed in every way that matters.~~ And in that maelstrom of emotion he does not find peace, but he finds something else. 

He finds part of himself. And it is not Obi-wan Kenobi, but someone else entirely when he lets himself be nothing except everything that he is.


	2. sinking faster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jango's point-of-view on the events that have transpired.

Jango is patrolling the camp perimeter. He should be sleeping, he knows, but the adrenaline and the sheer horror of the day has yet to wear off. So many things could have gone wrong. So many things almost did. Out of the corner of his eyes, Jango sees lit sabers, sees the ghosts of what might have been and pushes forward. He almost led his people into a trap today, into a massacre.

He would have, too, if they didn’t have the help of a near stranger. And what a stranger he is. 

Ben Tano is a marvel. He can fight, the beginning skirmish with the  _ Jetiise _ proved that, but he’s just as skilled at talking people  _ out of  _ a fight. What could have been a slaughter (would have been— your fault— your people—) ended with minor injuries and an uneasy peace between two peoples who had been misled and betrayed. Ben Tano managed to lead peace talks between historic enemies and came out the victor; but for all today was a victory the man still looked hollow. 

The  _ Haat Mando’ade _ were not Ben’s people. Whoever his people were, they were gone. They had not been saved. There hadn’t been much time for explanations in between scouting and revelations and negotiations to ask questions, but Ben had revealed that much. 

“They’re dead,” Ben had said, when asked what had happened. Who was dead wasn’t clear, but it didn’t need to be. Jango recognized the look of someone who had lost everything, saw his family die around him and been left standing. It felt, nearly, like looking at a version of himself who hadn’t had Jaster to help him cope with the grief but  _ worse _ . He clung to the twins like they were the only reason he was still breathing.

“My brother,” Ben had tried to say, “he… they’re all dead.”

And then he had taken a deep breath, boxed away that emotion, held his children closer, and then they got to work. Those emotions had resurfaced when being stared down by tens of  _ Jetiise _ . Recognition, confusion, relief, frustration, and heartrending grief flashing across in face in the span of a few breaths before being packed away with the same careful precision and instead being replaced with uncompromising strength. 

That strength will give, Jango knows, but for now he’s just grateful. Jango Fett is not used to being grateful to near strangers. Though, if Jango and his people have their way, Tano won’t be a stranger for long. If the man had been a few years younger, half of his people would have adopted Ben and his  _ ade _ without question. As it is, he’s simply a man with two children and nowhere to go. Jango was going to talk to him in the morning, but the  _ Mand’alor _ is restless; leftover adrenaline and anxiety drives him to seek Ben out. 

He immediately goes to the center of the camp where Jango knows the children will be. Jango can count on one hand the number of times Ben has let his  _ ade _ out of his sight, but he’s surprised to find Jenorra rocking the two, bundled up twins to sleep in her arms. Her lips quirk into a smile when she sees Jango.

“ _ Mand’alor _ ,” she says by way of greeting. “If you’re looking for Tano, I sent him to get some sleep. Myles cleared out part of a supply tent for him.” Jango nods his thanks before Jenorra jerks her head to motion him back. 

“He… he’s not okay. The kid looked like he was going to collapse as soon as he handed me the kiddos. I don’t know what happened but the kid has some serious shell shock rattling around in his head. I tried to keep him here, but I think he needed a minute. Either way, he shouldn’t be alone right now.” 

Jango nods again. If Nawara is in charge of healing their bodies, Jenorra knows more about healing the mind. If she says Ben shouldn’t be alone, Jango owes it to the man to check on him and make sure. 

He’s halfway across the encampment when he hears the first scream. HIs hand is already drawing his blaster as he sends out a call to the  _ verde _ on watch and is both relieved and slightly afraid when everyone checks back in near immediately with an all clear. This isn't an attack and the closer Jango gets to the sound, the more he begins to understand. 

That’s not a scream. It’s a sob.

And it’s coming from the supply tent that Ben is meant to be bunking in. 

He motions to those who have stuck their heads out of their tent, who have pulled their weapons and started moving, to back up while he checks the tent in case he’s wrong. But he’s not. Ben Tano is crumpled on the floor of the tent. It’s been set up with the standard bed roll and multiple blankets to make up for Galidraan’s cold so at least the man isn’t simply on the ground, but it’s little consolation. 

“ _ Stand down _ ,” Jango says into the comm as he holsters his blaster. This isn’t something he can fight, not like that. “It’s nothing to worry about.” At least, nothing for Jango’s men to worry about.

It’s always a gamble when approaching someone so battle worn; especially when they’re so vulnerable. Jango knows, even in his state, if Ben is startled that he’ll fight back. But, Jango thinks, it wouldn’t be much of a fight. Ben is a fierce warrior but at this moment the warrior is gone. 

Warrior. Negotiator. Peacekeeper. 

Underneath all of those things is just a man. A man out of place in ways that Jango does not yet understand, and maybe never will. 

A man who he owes a debt to. 

Knowing what he must do, Jango takes a steadying breath and moves forward. 

“Ben?” he asks, knowing the man can’t hear him. The only answer is a choked sob as his pale fingers dig into his scalp. Jango reaches forward, placing a hand on Ben’s shoulder, and he isn’t surprised when Ben’s fingers unclasp and grasp onto Jango’s arm. He isn’t surprised when Ben  _ yanks _ and pulls Jango onto the ground. He allows himself to lean into the fall, rolling easily, but Ben is right back on top of him. The man’s hands have gripped Jango’s arms and pinned them to the ground and Jango can feel the way he’s shaking. It would be an easy hold to break, but Jango isn’t here to fight, and he has a better chance getting through to Ben like this than before.

With Ben on top of him Jango can see the heaving of his chest, the wetness on his cheeks, the desperation in his eyes. 

(Jango wonders, if in a different life where Ben didn’t save his people, if he had ever looked that desperate. 

Then he shakes the thoughts away. That isn’t this life.)

“ _ Udusii _ ,” Jango says in the same steady voice he uses to comfort all his warriors, “it’s okay,  _ verd.  _ You’re safe. Your  _ ade _ are safe.  _ Su cuy'gar _ , Ben. You’re on Galidraan and you are safe.  _ Haalur _ .” Jango keeps talking despite the fact that Ben shows no sign of hearing him. He hopes the words might draw the man back to reality instead of trapped in his mind. His voice remains steady and calm as he waits; with how hard Ben is shaking, it won’t be long until he collapses whether he likes it or not.

“You can let go, Ben,” Jango promises, “You’re safe.” 

It takes a moment, a long, held breath, but the man  _ drops _ . Jango relies on his instincts and is moving before he can really think about it. He catches Ben and holds him close to his chest while Jango sits up. The man no longer resists as Jango pulls him closer. It’s not unlike Jaster held him years before and even though this isn’t the comfort Jango’s used to giving him men, he allows himself to lean into the familiarity. 

Jango doesn’t know how long he stays there with Ben Tano held against his chest and reassuring words flowing from his mouth. He comms Myles to let him know everything is okay and putting his  _ a’lor  _ in command for the night. Jango has a feeling it’s been a long time since Ben allowed himself to let go like this and Jango intends to see this through. It’s the least he owes the man. Ben Tano is someone who’s lost so much and holds an enormous weight on his shoulders. It’s a weight Jango does not fully know, but it is something Jango can understand.

Or, at least, he thinks so. Ben has the look of a man who carries the same responsibility on his shoulders as Jango. It’s a duty to an entire people, an entire future, resting in their hands. He holds too much responsibility, so much more than just two babes, and Jango yearns to help. 

In a different life, Jango bears the same sorrow as this man. He lives as the only survivor of what could have easily been the tragedy of today. But he doesn’t. Because of Ben. When he looks into those blue eyes, clouded by tears and the horrors of what he’s seen, Jango can’t help but think of what might have happened. And why it didn’t. 

_ They’re all dead _ … Ben said,  _ so many of them…  _ and Jango thinks of the horror on the man’s face when he revealed Deathwatch’s plot, his distress at the loss of all those lives, of an entire people simply being  _ gone _ . But even more than horror, Ben’s eyes spoke of the familiarity of someone who survived such a loss. If something happened to Ben’s people, Jango owes it to him to see something done about it. All  _ Haat Mando’ade  _ do. 

But that’s a problem for tomorrow. They will talk and decide next steps and figure out how to move forward in the morning, these two men with the weight of worlds on their shoulders, but for now Jango just holds Ben. He holds the man as an entire lifetime of sorrows pours out of him and doesn’t flinch away from the messy tears. 

Ben carries a heavy burden, Jango knows. 

It’s not a burden he’s willing to let Ben carry alone.


End file.
